Motive
by Puredeadthingy
Summary: After a neutron bomb devastates England, the Jellicles are born. However, they still live uneasily with some humans choosing to stay in London, and even trying to hunt them. Complete: warning for gore in chapter 4.
1. Drawing in The Dust

Disclaimer: Cats belongs to the T.S. Eliot and Andrew Lloyd Webber estates. I, of course, own no part of this story apart from the OC…and, quite frankly, I don't want to own her.

This is not my first fic, but it's my first fic _in a long time_. I can only hope I got it right. Reviews are, of course, appreciated, and constructive criticism would be a godsend. Tell me if you think I'm flaking! My chapters are normally this short, but I intend this to be a short fic anyway. I hope you enjoy reading this!

A Jellicle lounged lazily on the roof of the car, staring up at the dead-white sky. It was the middle of Autumn, and by rights there ought to have been leaves fluttering about and the voices of human children in school, or cars driving past. As it was, there was almost no human noise at all.

Several decades ago, drunk from power and excitement, the President of the United States had declared war on a small country with an arsenal of neutron bombs. No doubt the USA believed they could win the war by pussyfooting around with rules and regulations: however, the littler country hadn't cared for guidelines, and had dropped its bombs on certain parts of the Americas, and countries allied with it. Many places had been devastated: and yet the worst was still to come.

The mutations.

For the neutron bombs released high amounts of radiation: everyone knew the consequences would be dire, but no-one estimated how dire. For one bomb had dropped in the middle of the city of London, very near a testing laboratory, and had somehow managed to spread out certain hormones, cells, and DNA through the wave of people it had not irreversibly damaged.

The consequence was the Jellicle cats. People and cats, half-human freaks (as they were called in the popular media). And yet the number of Jellicles grew and grew as they bred together: and the humans seemed to die out, wombs damaged or adults killed. Only a few 'working' humans still remained in the cities—or, indeed, the country—and an unofficial agreement was that the humans should leave England, to make their lives elsewhere (possibly to repopulate America, possibly to open bars in Spain if they felt like it), and let the Jellicles have the Junkyard that was mostly London.

Some people were too thick to get it, of course, reflected the Jellicle, and turned over; the sky depressing him. Some humans still remained in London, that he knew of: he couldn't speak for anywhere else, but once or twice he got a nosing of the foolish ones, the poor ones: the economy had collapsed, they were reduced to foraging, and birth control was pretty much off the list: yet they kept reproducing. The Jellicles had never actually killed any, that he knew, but the Pollicles probably had, and Macavity was a dead cert to have done.

He had to admit they hadn't actually helped, either, but he tried not to think about that.

About to paw at his itching ear, a cough stopped him in his tracks. It wouldn't be the first time humans had come to hunt the Tribe for food. Idiots. He smoothly got down from the old Ford Mondeo and hotfooted it back to the Junkyard.

'Plato!' called out Munkustrap, technically the day-to-day leader of the Tribe. 'You look worried—'

'I have a reason!' the Jellicle called Plato replied. 'I think humans have come again. I was down by the old Ford, heard what was definitely a human coughing, so we should probably go and scare them off—'

Munkustrap's face hardened. 'Brilliant,' he muttered, almost to himself. 'Another lot of idiots who think they can take us for food.' Straightening, he nodded to the two older queens, Jennyanydots and Jellylorum.

'Get the kits and the others who can't fight with you into some secluded corner,' he said quietly, 'Guess who's come looking for dinner again?'

As an afterthought, he added; 'Take Asparagus and Skimbleshanks. Hm. Quaxo too.'

'Won't you need him?' Jellylorum protested, gathering the kittens around her.

Munkustrap shook his head. 'I think we'll let him be for the time being—he does need to rest, you know, we can't have him fighting all the time.'

About to angrily rebuke Munkustrap's claim that she didn't know what was best for Quaxo, Jellylorum was lead off gently by Asparagus. Munkustrap turned his head to the rest of the Jellicles who had gathered following Plato's announcement, glad that they were so ready.

'Plato heard a human. There may be others, so we just need to scare them away. Plato—would you say it was a kit?'

Plato shook his head. 'It wasn't an adult, but it wasn't a child.'

'Good, that makes it easier,' Munkustrap replied. 'Mungojerrie, Rumpleteazer—can you go and scout ahead, see what we're dealing with? Alonzo, Tugger, if we need to haul anyone in—if it's just a loner, or someone who works for Macavity—you're with me.'

He hoped they'd never have to haul somebody in, but better safe than sorry. The leader turned his face to the slightly forbidding brig the Jellicles had constructed several years ago. It was still standing, and still _empty. _Just the way he liked it.

Mungojerrie ghosted just past the car Plato had been sitting on, Rumpleteazer following along behind. Carefully, carefully, they peered through breaks in the wall nearby to see what their Tribe was up against. Would they be facing a hungry mob of twenty strong young adults? A few elderly humans, desperate for nourishment? Or a child, simply wanting companionship?

It was not nearly as severe as that, thank goodness. Just one single, solitary human teenager girl: rather chubby, so she wouldn't be able to run after them, quite pale, so she wouldn't be able to blend in, with the only things counting in her favour being her dull brown hair, and her equally dull mud-colour clothing.

She seemed not to be too alert, either. She was dragging her finger through the dust idly, seemingly absorbed in the patterns she was making.

'Doesn't seem that bad,' whispered Mungojerrie to his partner.

She stared at him as if he had suddenly grown another head. 'Are you mad? He said to bring in any loners—and that's what she happens to be! We're going to have to use that prison-thing, and interview her to make sure she ain't planning anything…oh, I can just imagine the look on his face.'

Mungojerrie looked rather blank.

'It won't be good,' she supplied.

'But surely,' he hissed back, still watching the girl, 'Bringin' her in is a precaution.'

'Yeah, but it's a soddin' inconvienient one,' Rumpleteazer pointed out. 'You keep an eye on her, I'll tell the rest of them.'

And so it came to pass that while the human girl had just finished drawing her pretty pictures in the dust, several shadows appeared over her.

The girl looked up, and her face was a mask of terror.

'You're going to have to come with us,' said Alonzo, and firmly held onto her upper arm as Tugger grabbed the other.

The girl started to scream, and the noise echoed around the empty streets, and nobody came to her aid.


	2. Liar, Liar

What with Tugger and Alonzo gripping her arms and practically dragging her along to the Junkyard, the girl hadn't any more energy to try and scream. She'd hopped over the earth a few times after being held by them, but now the fight seemed to have gone out of her.

Both Jellicles holding her were unnerved. This was the first time they were actively questioning somebody and she didn't even seem to be harmful. But there was always the possibility that she could be scouting for the humans, and thus they couldn't afford to take any chances.

When they eventually reached the Junkyard, Munkustrap gestured to the brig. The Jellicles who were ready to fight lined the way, in case she suddenly decided to make a run for it. The girl glared at them all through bright blue eyes, and, seeing the size of the Tribe, did not try to fight back.

'Coricopat, Tantomile, Alonzo and Tugger,' Munkustrap ordered in a low voice, 'Join me in the…where we'll take her. Get the rest of them to stop staring, but keep an eye on here—get the kits out, and so forth—nothing should get out about her, is that clear?'

The Twins nodded in eerie unison: Tugger snorted, but seemed to obey, and Alonzo just moved the girl to the brig. With a sigh, Munkustrap beckoned the other three Jellicles in, and then entered the place himself, noting bitterly that he would have been happy never to use this place.

_O_

The girl was seated on a pile of old cleaning cloths, with Alonzo and Tugger flanking either side of her. Munkustrap had to give her some credit: Though filthy, not commanding an air of respect at all, she managed to look completely calm, as though if she just went by some script in her head, then everything would be fine.

Munkustrap rubbed his face. Yes, it was cruel to bring in a defenceless human, but the Jellicles desperately needed to know if they were in immediate danger.

He moved forward. 'I'm the leader of this Tribe. My name is Munkustrap.'

The girl said nothing, just hid her face.

The grey tabby sighed. He didn't have a clue how to handle this, and was afraid that it showed. He tried again.

'We brought you here because we think you may have been scouting for humans,' he said bluntly.

This earned him a reaction. The dull head snapped up, and the girl was yelling at Munkustrap, yellow teeth showing, eyes wild, screaming about obviously being a loner, couldn't he see that, why, she knew their real reason for bringing her in, and she'd sooner die before they did that to her--!

Munkustrap was glad for the Twins. Coricopat looked at her, and said clearly, 'Be silent,' pressing a paw forward onto her shoulder. If anyone but one of the Twins had tried that, he knew, somehow, that the girl would have slashed out with her jagged nails. As it was, the human fell quieter, though still glaring defiantly.

Casting a grateful glance to Coricopat, at his side, Munkustrap continued with his line of questioning, going for something simpler.

'What should we call you?'

'My _name,_' the girl spat, 'Is Beth.'

She still continued to glare, casting her gaze around the room for an escape route or something to fight her way out with. Noticing this, Munkustrap hastened to reassure her.

'Not one of us will harm you.'

'How do I _know_ that?' Beth said shrilly, still not moving from the pile of cloth. Tantomile cast a glance to her brother, who shook his head to indicate he would not order her silence again just yet.

Tugger scratched his chin. 'Well, we haven't slaughtered you yet, so I'd say that would give you a good idea—' He caught Alonzo's look. 'Right, yes, sorry, just trying to give advice…'

Munkustrap sat up on an old desk they'd put in the brig specifically for questioning scenarios. 'So. Beth. What were you doing by the Ford?'

Beth sniffed. 'Is it illegal to sit down nowadays?'

That was an interesting question. Every kit knew that beyond a certain point in London, the humans and Jellicles maintained an uneasy no-mans-land. This human looked to be in her middle to late teens, and should have known that through pure experience, if nothing else. Munkustrap was suddenly glad that he had trusted his instincts enough to pull in the first loner.

'Well…' he said slowly, 'It's certainly not recognised as a safe place to be. Almost universally so. It's Jellicle territory.'

The girl wound a piece of hair rapidly through her knobbly fingers, looking down quickly. Coricopat looked straight at his sister and raised his eyebrows. They both knew the girl was lying—it didn't take a mystical cat to see it. Whether about her name or her actual motive to being there, she definitely merited more questioning.

'What were you doing there?' Munkustrap proceeded carefully, seeing Beth's mind work quickly to formulate a story for herself.

'I didn't know about the Jellicle ownership,' she said slowly, and finally let go of her hair. 'I was drawing in the dust.'

'Why?'

'Cause I was bored.'

'Why?'

'Cause I've been on my own for three years now and having nobody to talk to makes it dull,' she shot straight back, presumably attempting flattery to alleviate suspicion.

'Do you normally live round here?' asked Alonzo suddenly, signalling for Munkustrap to leave this question to him.

Beth twisted round to face the black-and-white face of her guard. 'No,' she replied. (Coricopat and Tantomile looked at each other in surprise: the girl displayed none of the liar's signs as she had in her previous answers) 'I normally sleep in the old hospital offices.'

'Ever see a Jellicle round there?' asked Tugger quickly.

She shook her head. 'The only reason I moved in was 'cause there weren't any cats.'

The three questioners looked at each other, confused. 'But—there _was_ a cat there.'

She shrugged. 'Maybe he moved on.'

_Or was killed by humans, _thought Coricopat grimly, and reflected that this would not bode well for her.

'You ever killed a Jellicle?' demanded Tugger, holding onto her arm tightly.

She winced in pain as he increased pressure, until Alonzo glared at him to remind him that they had promised not to hurt her.

'No,' she answered sulkily, trying to move her arm to make the soreness go away. 'But I've seen them that have. It's why I'm alone now—I'm not going to eat sentient things.'

Tantomile shook her head. It was clear the girl was either mad or desperately trying to get the Jellicles on her side. Eating sentient things was about the only way to live now; all the plant life having been wiped out by the bomb and nobody being capable of planting other vegetables. The Jellicles themselves subsided on old canned food, blasted open by Mistoffelees, or care packages supplied by countries who mistakenly believed the Jellicles were trying to take over the world, and feeding them would make them pass over their country. It was a rumour the Jellicles did their best to encourage.

When it became blatantly obvious to everyone there, even to the girl herself, that most of her claims were lies, Munkustrap took the Twins aside.

'Look,' he whispered. 'We all know she needs to be asked some more questions, but I really can't see how much she has lied about. Since you can tell-'

'It's just a matter of body language, you know,' interrupted Tantomile gently.

'Be that as it _may_,' the Jellicle leader pressed on sternly, 'We still can't tell. Would you be able to sit with her, dissect the flaws in her story, be able to tell if she is a renegade human or a hungry, lying one?'

'And if she is lying?' said Coricopat, in a low voice.

Munkustrap sighed again and rubbed his forehead. 'I need to talk to Old Deuteronomy then. But we can't allow her back to the group she came from.'

The Twins nodded. 'So, will we have guards around the room?' they wanted to know.

'Of course. Mungojerrie, Alonzo, Tugger, Admetus…will that be sufficient?'

'Quite satisfactory,' they answered as one, and made their way towards Beth.

_O_

I'd love it if you'd review. I'm not above begging, or bribing, you know.


	3. Napoleon

_Really,_ reflected Coricopat, _It's all well and good that they've left us the job of further talking to her, but it's so time-consuming._

The Twins had sat with her, trying to get her to answer their questions, for nearly an hour. Beth hadn't answered many, trying not to implicate herself or her involvement in anything else, which made for very dull work.

Both Coricopat and Tantomile were skilled at detecting lies, however; it was what came from years of studying humans and trying to understand them. They had determined the girl was lying about her name, why she was by the old Ford, but strangely, not about her involvement with humans.

As Beth changed positions on the rag pile, the mystical cats had had a significant conversation via the exchange of looks. Most cats are vaguely psychic, but twin cats, who were rumoured to have been familiars of a witch?

_So, if she's not lying about the humans, oughtn't we to let her go?_

Tantomile blinked. _What if she's working for something else?_

_Such as, sister?_

_The Pollicles, perhaps—_

_As if they'd hear a human out rather than eat them!_

_Well, that only leaves two alternatives. Either she really is a rogue agent, or—_

_Macavity, _they chorused at the same time, and grimaced.

In a flash, Coricopat was behind her while Tantomile stood in front. Clearly, she asked: 'Are you working for Macavity?'

Beth stopped looking down at the floor, and seemed surprised enough to stare into Tantomile's eyes.

'Who?' she asked, puzzled.

Tantomile relaxed. The girl had seemed genuinely baffled: not one who knew the Hidden Paw. She seemed to be telling the truth about that, but there was still something that made her uneasy, something she couldn't quite place…

Suppressing a shiver, Tantomile nodded to her brother and made her way out of the brig to tell Munkustrap of their findings so far. Beth was left alone with Coricopat, awkwardly avoiding his eyes and dragging her long fingers through her matted hair.

Watching the girl try and untangle her dirty hair, the Jellicle mused on the inefficiency of humans when it came to grooming, and then realised she probably needed to perform the same bodily functions, however much they were different—avoiding the issue of toilets, that meant she was probably hungry or thirsty. It seemed as though Quaxo would be needed, sooner or later, to either threaten her to answer the questions or to blow open cans of food for her—but was it really safe to expose him as the magician to the girl?

_O_

Tantomile picked her way across the Junkyard serenely, avoiding questions from the kittens about the real live human, and avoiding the adults' questions, of much the same nature, equally as well. Reaching Munkustrap, she gestured for him to join her a way away from the rest of the Tribe.

'The real thing,' she said in a low voice, 'That we need to find is what she was doing by the car. Can you send anyone back, copy the drawing she claimed to be doing? She may have been planning something; it's still not quite clear what her motives were.'

The Jellicle protector groaned and bit his lip. 'We were going to do that,' he told her, 'Except—well, let me explain.'

Munkustrap sat on the ground, motioning for Tantomile to do the same. She did, a look of worry (unusual for her), clear on her features.

'We were worried that what she was doing may have had some magical symbolism—'

Here Tantomile laughed. 'A human magician? They're rare, and we would have noticed.'

Munkustrap looked at her, irritated. 'Yes, but we couldn't cross-examine you, since you were in there with your brother. As I was saying…we had to explore all possibilities. So—we were going to send a party out, when Plato bounded back in. He'd gone back to the car, and the ground was completely clean. Some stupid Jellicle must have wiped it out, or another human is involved, or we have invaders.'

'Oh,' was all that Tantomile could say for a few moments. 'So, not only do we not know if she was planning something, but we could have invaders. She isn't working for Macavity, or for a human tribe,' she explained, 'So this does present a problem. Is it possible it was just the wind?'

Munkustrap nodded reluctantly. In the years after the bomb had been dropped, the weather had seemed that bit more wild, that bit more fierce. 'I still don't trust her,' he said, in a low voice.

'Nobody does,' replied Tantomile. 'She's a horrible little liar. Except now that we've brought her in, we can't just let her go.'

'Thank you for the information,' said the grey tabby wearily, and stood up. 'I believe I am going to find Demeter. Feed the girl, and then leave her for the night—I'll change the guard.'

The queen watched as Munkustrap slunk away, shoulders drooping. She knew he thought he had made a mistake in questioning the girl, and she was inclined to agree.

_O_

As Mungojerrie ambled back to the den he shared with Rumpleteazer, after a boring day guarding the brig, Skimbleshanks stopped in his path.

'Jenny says you're to have the pick of the most recent parcel,' he said sternly. 'As are the rest of the guards. I'd say she's angling for some news, and so am I, but all I ask is that you don't take all the Scotch.'

Mungojerrie smiled lazily. 'Noted. If you let me take a bit of the Scotch, though,' he added, 'I might be able to tell you a bit.'

Consequently, the two were later found by the old oven, sharing whisky, and Mungojerrie with a bundle of food to take back.

'So Tantomile came back, and Coricopat came runnin' out, gabbled something about a can of veg that none of us wanted and so the girl could have it (I think she scares him, personally), and Tantomile had to warn us that she was gonna use one room as a toilet, and that we were discharged f'r the night, and then Coricopat came back dead slow, with this really broken can of vegetables that Quaxo'd opened—let me tell you, it was a dangerous thing, metal edges whippin' this way an' that—he's obviously heard some rumours, I'm thinking, and then Tantomile told us all to bog off because we were all tryin' to listen to what that girl was saying.'

'Which was…?' prompted Skimbleshanks, thankful that Mungojerrie became very talkative after the smallest bit of alcohol.

'Oh, only that she was whinin' about wanting to go home and that she wouldn't eat whatever can of stuff it was, and that she wanted to know if they'd bashed it open on a rock, and that she wanted to see Napoleon.'

Skimbleshanks snorted. 'Napoleon? A what?'

Mungojerrie grinned. 'We both know humans are weird when they name their things. Probably a teddy bear or something.'

Still chuckling madly at the odd ways humans acted, Skimbleshanks waved Mungojerrie away, and took up his guard post.

_O_

The reason I'm updating so much is out of the terror of school starting on Tuesday. Then, perhaps, the updates will be more spaced out, say, a week?

Anyway. I'm really worried about how this story will turn out, so I'd appreciate reviews to tell me what you think.


	4. Red Tin

I fully expect to get murdered in my bed by any and all Mistoffelees lovers for this chapter. Sleep is for the weak, anyway…

_O_

'Coricopat?'

Coricopat turned over sleepily. Muzzily, he was about to ask what the matter was when a nervous paw nudged him. Angrily (he needed his sleep, why could Tantomile never understand that?), Coricopat sat bolt upright. '_What?_'

Quaxo, (for it was he), jumped backwards. 'Sorry, I just thought that maybe you could help,' he mumbled nervously.

Feeling rather guilty for shouting at the kitten, and rather shamed he looked like he was shirking his training duties, Coricopat shook his head to clear it. 'Sorry, Quaxo, I was just…tired. Never too tired to help you, though,' he added gamely and untruthfully. 'What's wrong?'

Quaxo beckoned with one white-patched paw and drew the mystical cat's attention to the brig. There was an almighty ruckus coming from its insides; since Quaxo slept near it, it was no wonder the poor cat had been affected by the noise.

'C'n I blast it?' the kitten asked innocently, lightning sprouting from his paws.

Quaxo got a glare for his troubles. 'Quaxo,' began the older cat sternly, 'You've been listening to rumour and speculation, haven't you?'

Quaxo looked down as Beth took a short break from her screaming. 'Everyone says she's evil.'

'And 'Everyone' is never wrong,' reminded Coricopat, somewhat harshly. 'Everyone used to think magical cats were _evil_.'

The kitten scowled at Coricopat. 'Yeah, well, I've never been so bad I've been stuck in _there.' _

As Beth started to scream once more, Coricopat sighed. It was no use waking Tantomile if he could handle this on his own.

'Tell you what,' he said loudly to Quaxo over her screams, 'You go and get her breakfast. I'll calm her down. We'll need water for her, too.'

As the magical cat scampered off, looking both sneaky and disapproving, Coricopat entered the brig, giving Pouncival (one of the guards) a swift clip round the ear for being so dead to the world when asleep. He readied himself in case the frenzied girl attacked, and unlocked the door.

Nothing. Beth was screwed up on the rag bundle, and she didn't look to be awake or even half-asleep. He bent down to look at her, and her eyes were flickering back and forth under her eyelids.

Just a dream.

Coricopat lurched towards the door, intending to sleep a little while longer. As he threw it open, a small black blur came hurtling through with a shiny, open metal can. Quaxo, of course. Damn.

The tin-carrying blur stopped and squinted. 'She doesn't look too evil. No red fur. No long fingernails. Looks a bit dirty—'

'Quaxo.'

'—Maybe if she groomed herself she could look nice, well, not as nice as Jemima or Victoria—'

'Quaxo.'

'Or maybe she needs human stuff? Have we got—'

'_Mistoffelees,' _hissed Coricopat, mainly from tiredness, not noticing Beth's eye suddenly open a crack. 'Please. You've blasted the can open—'

Beth's body suddenly went tenser. Quaxo noticed, and was about to open his mouth and ask why, but found himself being bundled up by Coricopat, who was not in the mood to handle magical precocious kittens. Hearing a stream of words that seemed to boil down to 'Tantomile is in charge of training today!', the kitten found himself bowled out of the brig, with only a glimpse of the girl to brag to the others about.

It was enough. He skipped off to find Tumblebrutus and boast about having only just escaped those ferocious eyes and those yellow fangs.

_O_

A week later, and the kittens were buzzing with excitement. Beth had largely been forgotten about after the initial burst of terror and rampant fascination, and they were now waiting for their newest obsession to turn up: Tantomile had taught Mistoffelees how to shape lightning bolts with his paws, and he could now write names in the air, that fizzled and sparked with miniature bolts.

'Do mine again!' begged Rumpleteazer, having been drawn to the group by the sheen of the electricity. Mistoffelees smiled beatifically and cast the first 'R', when Victoria suddenly gasped and pointed towards the brig.

The door was opening, and the Twins were escorting the human out of the Junkyard. Immediately, despite the adults' attempt to hold them back, the kittens raced to a nearer spot—all except Mistoffelees, now ordinary Quaxo again, who hung back nearer the adults, partly due to his shyness and partly due to the fact he felt a little dizzy after his stunts.

Behind him, he could hear Munkustrap fending off questions from the rest of the Tribe. He did not pay much attention to what was being said: he had a feeling that something bad was going to happen, and so kept firmly focused on Beth. Perhaps the Twins felt the same way? Coricopat was definitely not as serene as he usually was; jumpier, perhaps, not as in tune with Tantomile. Out of step, oh yes.

The two Jellicles approached closer to the kittens. Beth did not do anything except to shuffle alongside them and completely ignored the kittens. She seemed have her fists balled for if anyone tried to scratch at her; and now they were moving near Quaxo.

The Twins almost hung back as Beth limped along; she seemed to be not much of a threat, after all, thought an amused Quaxo. He let himself wonder how she was getting out of the junkyard; and then

and then

and then

she grabbed hold of him (of him, Quaxo was too surprised to react), and opened her fist. It had a sharp, jagged piece of metal from the cans he had blasted open: and she plunged it into his chest, _hard_; and pulled along and tugged it out, and then she ran

and he dropped.

Most of the Tribe leapt for Quaxo, pouring out blood: Munkustrap and Alonzo sprung to catch the evil girl, who had for some reason stopped just out of the pipe, and she was laughing and showing those butter-yellow, vicious canine teeth of hers, and they jumped for her; (Quaxo was sure she had another plan, but could not speak), and something terribly bright and orange shimmered and they were knocked back.

Beth laughed once more, cruelly examining the now crimson piece of tin. The Twins, furious and frightened, looked up and called with one voice:

'Who do you work for?'

The girl spat contemptuously in their direction; it would not reach them, but she appeared pleased. 'Napoleon,' she answered. 'The Napoleon of Crime.'

Coricopat ran up to the closest place to the barrier. 'You told us,' he shouted, 'That you did not work for Macavity! You swore!'

'I don't even know who that _is,_ you stupid furball,' the girl answered with delight. As she was about to leave the Jellicles to their chaos and panic, the orange light glinted again, and a voice boomed out.

'That's me.'

Beth looked up, in terror. 'Sir?'

'Shut up, human,' he snarled. 'I can hear, but not see; suffice to let the Tribe know that now their magician is…ah…incapacitated, they can expect a visit from me soon...'

He paused to enjoy the cries of terror from some of the Jellicles, and then spoke again.

'Symbol—I expect a report from you. If the plan was totally successful, mayhap you will visit me alone later on.'

Beth—Symbol—called out her agreement, though she could not stop her shudder of revulsion. Turning, and flicking the last bit of bloodstained metal at Macavity's barrier with her long fingers, she watched the carnage and the bloodflow from Quaxo's chest for a few moments, then bounded away.

Coricopat and Tantomile exchanged horrified glances; shame, guilt, anger at themselves; and then, as one cat, ran to help the bleeding Jellicle magician.

_O_

I warned you.

If you want to yell, or praise, or tell me your thoughts at all—the review button is just there.

And you may even get the final chapter/s this weekend: A-level homework is pretty much just notes at the minute.


	5. Ignorance is Bliss

squees quietly Thank you all so, so much for your reviews. You have no idea how much they cheered me up. School has yet to be kind to me. I'm probably not helping myself by staying up until 5 a.m. most weekend nights, chatting and roleplaying and writing, but eh.

Here's the last chapter! I've loved writing this story, and you can bet that as soon I get a new Cats plot idea, I'll ignore my Religious Studies or English Lit homework and type it up.

I'd especially like to thank Ekwy for convincing me to write this, and Aevany Storm for being the first person to review Motive.

Without further ado, onto the chapter.

_O_

As Beth stumbled over rocks and plants in her attempt to get to Napo—_Macavity's_ lair before the barrier went down, she couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor Tribe. Yes, they had trusted her, and she betrayed them in the worst way possible. But what was that, that Macavity said once? 'If they're stupid enough to trust you, you deserve everything they get.'

That she agreed with. She leapt over a block of concrete on the ground, and skinned the side of her leg as she came down awkwardly on it. She hissed in pain, and kept on fast to the hospital where he had made his offices after killing the lone Jellicle there.

Cynara, another of Macavity's workers—but a cat—looked up as she came in. Seeing it was just the human, she looked down again at the old book she had found, ignoring Beth's skinned leg and the grit stuck in it.

'Can you tell him I'm back?' panted the girl, searching for the water pipe to clean her graze. Cynara rolled her eyes and pointed with a claw.

'Tell him yourself.'

Beth followed the claw to the old Chief Of Medicine's office, a floor above. Hiding her leg by winding an old, tatty blanket around her waist, Beth took the stairs two at a time, eager to hear what he had to say to her.

Straightening her hair with her hands, she leant against the wall for a moment, to wipe off the blood on her. In leaning her head back, she found she could hear Macavity's rasping voice instructing a worker what to do.

'…and then, and then take…Demeter, and Rumpleteazer,' he mused. 'Tell them their mates are dead, and imprison the toms in the cadaver room. They'll go mad there soon enough—and then, when they are insane, show them to their mates.'

The worker mumbled something.

'That human just_ killed_ their precious magician! What will the Twins do, attempt to stare me down?'

The worker did not argue anymore. Beth hoped it was because he had been clever and held his tongue.

There was a bang, and the worker exited, sweating visibly. He sneered at Beth, and ran down the steps, tail down.

Beth nervously cleared her throat, and entered the room.

Macavity was reclining on a blood-red chaise longue, with darker patches where it had matted or been clawed it. It fitted him well, Beth reflected, it suited his colouring in both body and mind. Red, she knew, was for ruthlessness.

In a silkier voice than he'd used with the worker, he spoke. 'Human. News to report?'

Macavity shook his head. 'No, wait, I told you when you killed him then you would receive a name. Symbol.'

Beth nodded nervously. 'I sat by the car, where you told me they would be. Sure enough, one came. He spotted me and ran off. Then two scouts came along, and I added the trail symbols so you'd know where I was. Then that Munkustrap and two others came along.'

'Where was the magician during all this?' Macavity interrupted, frowning.

'He, he wasn't there, sir,' she said quickly. 'I did stab him. They took me to the Junkyard, tried to question me, but they couldn't get anything out of me that was true. And they brought me food that I learnt was opened by him, and it was metal, and they led me past him when I was to leave, and…I stabbed him.'

Macavity purred slickly. 'I am pleased. The barrier is still up. Remain here, and I will go and fight them.'

Beth knew that what he really meant was to create a massacre with not one drop of his own blood spilling. She approved. Nodding, she backed out from the room.

_O_

The Junkyard was in chaos. Quaxo had lost much of his blood, and Coricopat and Tantomile only knew so much of herbs that could help him. Jenny was trying to make him comfortable and bandage his chest, and Tantomile wished, just wished that Mistoffelees could come out and use his magic.

_Wait—_she thought, _wait…_

Pushing Coricopat away from the kit's arm, Tantomile bent so she was looking at Quaxo's pale face. 'Mistoffelees,' she said urgently, 'Hear me. It is your teacher. Agree to send me your magic.'

Quaxo's head flopped to the side. Tantomile raised a paw to lift it straight again, and spoke again. '_Mistoffelees._ To stop Macavity from taking over the junkyard, to stop him from taking _us!_'

Quaxo, obviously with effort, twitched his eye. Taking it as permission, Tantomile grasped his paw and gasped as what felt like a thousand volts sizzled up her arm.

'Thank you,' she muttered, after she could speak once more. She knew what to do, had taught him, and touched either side of the kit's chest.

Slowly, slowly, more colour began to come into his cheeks.

Jenny yanked at Coricopat's side. 'What is she _doing?_' she whispered.

Coricopat shook his head. 'I believe she is replenishing his blood flow, mending his tissue…he will be weak for several weeks, but now she has his magic, the junkyard may yet be saved—'

A crash, a sizzle outside. Screams. The barrier was down, and Macavity was inside. Tantomile was holding her head, clearly in pain after using magic that was not hers, and could not stand.

Coricopat took his sister's hand, looking up at her. 'Listen to me! Come on! You have no time to worry about the consequences! Quaxo allowed you his magic, you would be dead if he hadn't agreed to the power transfer! You must hurry!'

Tantomile could not focus: she looked tired, and sick. Coricopat, anxiously chewing on his bottom lip, decided that he could only do one thing.

Dragging her to the door of Jenny's den, he made them both look outside: carnage.

Macavity was standing on top of the old car, laughing: Old Deuteronomy was nowhere to be found, two of his henchmen were keeping Alonzo from reaching Cassandra: Rumpleteazer was fighting off several cats of loyalty to Macavity, snarling and biting; Munkustrap was trying to slash at a henchrat's chest whilst protecting Demeter…

'_Look at them_!' he urged his sister. 'Use your power!'

Tantomile groaned; even more frantic, Coricopat searched around: now Rumpleteazer was being dragged away by the same cats, Mungojerrie being forcibly kept away as she cried his name: the henchrat was bleeding, but so was Demeter….

He licked his sister. 'For me,' he said urgently.

She was standing up now: taking careful aim (he helped to steady her), she sent bolts to Macavity's army. Anyone looking at her would see a silhouette of an androgynous cat illuminated by occasional flashes of blue. One by one, the henchmen dropped away, fleeing—as Macavity was about to, she loosed a jolt to the car he was on. He cried out in pain, and literally ripped away, leaving some fur behind.

Coricopat could hardly contain his joy: they had _won._

Tantomile tumbled to the ground, and he knew her body could not handle the magic any longer. He stumbled with her to Quaxo, and picked up each of their limp paws. The magic was transferred, and both looked healthier.

Jenny looked at them. 'I appreciate what you two just did, but Quaxo needs immediate care.'

Coricopat nodded, and Tantomile weakly agreed. They went out into the sunlight; Mungojerrie was holding his shaking partner-in-crime, Munkustrap and Demeter seemed to be holding each other up, and the kittens surrounded Old Deuteronomy.

It seemed unlikely that Macavity would come visiting soon.

_O_

Cynara had, reluctantly, allowed Beth time to wash. Macavity often made good on his promises to bed those who had done good jobs for him; he would not want the singular human to be even more disgusting for him.

Now she had been let into his room, and she sat at the foot of the blood-red sofa, staring at a matted brown patch nervously.

Slam. The door opened, and before Beth could even look at him, Macavity had twisted and snapped her neck.

Beth fell down, dead. Macavity spat on her, and then gave instructions on what to do with the body.

_O_

When the people of France received a covered boat from across the channel, they assumed it was refugees.

It was the decomposing body of a teenage girl, with a note pinned to her chest.

Presently, the Jellicles began to receive even more parcels of food and water from other countries: and they did not question why.

They knew Macavity's methods too well.


End file.
